


Calling For You

by Kenda1L



Series: Twitter Fics [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe: Phone Sex Workers, Bad Dirty Talk, Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Getting Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Lingerie, M/M, Office Sex, Paladins Have Minor Roles, Pidge | Katie Holt is So Done, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with a little bit of Plot, SHEITH - Freeform, Sex Chicken, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sex Work, Sexy Costumes, Shiro Is In Therapy, Teasing, body image issues, sex positivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24373201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenda1L/pseuds/Kenda1L
Summary: Keith and Shiro are phone sex workers with a friendly rivalry. It goes about as you’d expect.It starts simple: who can rack up the most customer call time, who has the most repeat customers that month, who can keep their customer on the line longest after coming. Their favorite game is trying to make each other laugh by using the worst lines possible, maintaining eye contact the entire time while their John or Jane gets off to things like, ‘I'm gonna put my bologna stick in your special sandwich’ or ‘ride my donkey schlong, baby. Yeah, is your Grand Canyon getting wet for me?’ They keep a running tally each day; the loser has to do whatever the winner wants.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Twitter Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759786
Comments: 37
Kudos: 195





	Calling For You

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a twitter thread that I cleaned up and added to. Many thanks to Abbey for looking this over and making sure everything made sense!

When Keith’s parents hugged him tight, slipped him a graduation card with a thousand dollars in it, and told him to _‘go, be great’_ , they probably didn’t mean _‘move to L.A. and become one of the top phone sex operators in the business’_. It doesn’t stop them from throwing him a party when he gets the Operator of the Year award for the second year in a row. He’s incredibly grateful for their progressive attitudes; he could have done without the vagina lava cakes and dick-shaped confetti he’s still finding randomly throughout his apartment six months later, but beggars can’t be choosers and he is far from begging these days.

Well, unless his callers ask for it.

Keith is on top of the world. He has a fun job, work friends who have become real friends, and enough money to pay for grad school without taking out loans. He couldn't ask for more.

Then a walking, talking wet dream sits his amazing ass down at the workstation across from him, engulfs Keith’s outstretched hand in one giant paw, and introduces himself as Takashi “but call me Shiro” Shirogane, their newest recruit.

This would be no problem, normally; a startling percentage of their employees are attractive, considering they are a voice-only service, and if Shiro happens to be right up Keith’s alley looks-wise, well, Keith won’t say no to a little eye-candy for inspiration. But then Shiro says, “Keith, huh? So you’re the one to beat, then,” and gives Keith a smile so sweet and heated that Keith’s dick twitches while at work for the first time in months.

Keith returns the smile with interest, slouching loose-limbed in his chair. “You can try,” he drawls.

Shiro cocks his head, pretty gray eyes taking on an edge of competitiveness. “Oh, I will.”

Keith’s heart trips into double-time. “Looking forward to it, sweetcheeks.”

In the workstation next to Keith, Pidge drops her head in her hands and says, “Oh sweet mother of Jesus, someone _please_ trade desks with me.”

***

When Matt’s little sister, Pidge, accidentally (embarrassingly) overhears Shiro talking dirty to one of his random Tinder hookups and drags him in for an interview at her job, Shiro goes more out of curiosity than anything else. He accepts the job offer because the place is way more upscale and classy than he’d expected, and because he’s been floundering after being honorably discharged from the Air Force. His therapist had suggested he look for opportunities to rebuild his self confidence after the accident, and this seems as good as anything else. He doubts she meant for him to go out and get a job in the sex industry but when he tells her, arms crossed and chin set mulishly as he waits for any sign of distaste, she just tilts her head thoughtfully and says, “Huh. Unconventional, but I like it. Keep me updated on how it works.”

Surprised and grateful, he nods, and they move on to this week’s Celebrations of Success.

He starts his new job on a Wednesday. (“People are horny on Hump Day, Shiro. Don’t question it,” Pidge says sagely, with all the wisdom of someone who has been talking people through their orgasms since she was eighteen.) His stomach is in knots as the owner, Coran, gives him the tour and introduces him to his co-workers before leading him over to a six-desk cluster. 

“And this is where you’ll be working,” Coran says, gesturing grandly to make up for the way he keeps his voice hushed in deference to the people on calls. Pidge twiddles her fingers at him from the desk cater-corner to the empty one that will become his. He’s not sure how he feels about being so close to her. On the one hand, knowing someone settles the butterflies in his stomach. On the other hand, hearing his best friend’s baby sister purr things like, _‘yeah, ram me with that fist, daddy’_ is really, really weird.

Luckily, Shiro is easily distracted from the Pidge Paradox by wide, thickly lashed eyes so blue they’re almost violet. “I’m Keith,” says the pretty, pretty man at the desk opposite of his, half standing to lean over their desks and extend a slim fingered hand to shake. Shiro takes it, hoping to everything holy that his hand isn’t clammy and that Keith won’t notice the faint tremble. Keith’s voice is a pleasant, smoky baritone with just a hint of southern drawl that sets Shiro aflame. The name triggers a memory of Pidge talking about the wild party one of her co-worker’s parents had thrown in celebration of his second year as Employee of the Year. He remembers musing about how his Jiji would react in that situation as he helped Matt feed her Gatorade and bits of bread to subdue her raging hangover.

“Keith, huh?” he says. He summons up his best _‘I’m going to fuck you so hard and then cuddle you harder’_ smile. “So you’re the one to beat, then.”

Keith’s elegant eyebrows shoot up in surprise before his lips settle into something both amused and fierce. “You can try,” he says, and if that isn’t a challenge, Shiro doesn’t know what is. 

Shiro has always liked a challenge.

***

It doesn’t take long for their friendly rivalry to become a workplace staple. It starts simple: who can rack up the most customer call time, who has the most repeat customers that month, who can keep their customer on the line longest after coming. Their favorite game is trying to make each other laugh by using the worst lines possible, maintaining eye contact the entire time while their John or Jane gets off to things like, _‘I'm gonna put my bologna stick in your special sandwich’_ or _‘ride my donkey schlong, baby. Yeah, is your Grand Canyon getting wet for me?’_ They keep a running tally each day; the loser has to do whatever the winner wants. 

At first, the prizes are as silly as the challenges. Shiro has to wear a clown nose and wig to work. Keith has to tape one of the company brand dildos to his head like a unicorn. Shiro makes Keith delicious bento boxes for a week because Keith is always low-key jealous of his octopus hotdogs. (Shiro keeps bringing them even after the week is up, because the way Keith’s face lights up whenever he sees the cute bunny onigiri or star-shaped watermelon slices makes Shiro's belly flutter and jump.) 

Then comes the day when Shiro makes Keith come to work dressed as a cat. He's not sure what he expected, but it sure wasn't Keith coming in wearing a latex bodysuit that shows off every ridge of his abs, much less his other assets. Almost worse are the soft, fuzzy ears and tail. They're just so damn cute; it _does_ things to Shiro, makes him want to do things to Keith, like pet those little ears and dig his fingers into that silky hair. Or maybe grab onto that tail and... 

Shiro coughs and clears his throat. Keith smirks as heat spreads over Shiro’s face and down his chest. Keith holds his hands out to his sides. "So, have I satisfied you, Shiro?" 

"Ye...yeah," Shiro stutters and quickly answers the first call that comes up. Strange how talking filthy is somehow less embarrassing than the way he can't stop sneaking peeks at Keith all day. Even the fact that Keith sneaks the word _‘meow’_ into his calls every possible chance isn't enough to quell the half-stiffy Shiro sports all day. If anything, it makes things worse.

Needless to say, Shiro loses their competition that day. "I want… you to dress up like a bunny," Keith says in a lazy drawl, then stalks out of the office, tail swinging alluringly. 

Go big or go home, Shiro thinks later as he raids the sex shop that takes up the bottom floor of their office building. The next day he strides confidently into the office in a Playboy bunny outfit, fishnet stockings, and stiletto heels he'd spent all night learning how to walk in. The way Keith's jaw drops is worth the lack of sleep. Shiro flicks one bunny ear out of his eyes and turns to wiggle his tail in Keith's face. "You like it, baby?" 

Keith has to swallow hard to get his voice working, and even then it’s way too raspy, hitting a low rumble he doesn't even use with customers. "I love it, sweetcheeks," he manages, then he slaps Shiro on the ass to hide the way his voice breaks on the endearment. Shiro will deny the squeak he makes to his dying day, but it’s the best sound Keith’s heard in a long time. It haunts his dreams and _‘Me Time’_ for weeks, as does the way Shiro spends the rest of the evening getting up to stretch, reach, and bend over at every possible opportunity. Keith’s eyes follow his every move, helpless to look away from the fishnet covered cheeks half exposed by the high-cut leotard. Shiro’s muscular cleavage is sin personified. 

Keith’s attention hits Shiro like a drug. He preens under it for their entire shift and even briefly considers Keith’s not-so-subtle suggestion that he take a spin on the dance pole set up in the corner of the break room that is jokingly designated _‘The Gym’_. He eventually declines demurely because Shiro knows his strengths, and musicality is not one of them. Besides, Lance advises that he’d have a hard time sticking to the pole in the fishnets, and Lance is the resident expert. (It has nothing to do with the fact that Keith has shown a surprising prowess of his own on that pole, during break times when he’s feeling antsy from sitting for too long.)

Their games change after that day. Now, instead of coming up with the corniest lines they can, they try to one up each other on who can talk the dirtiest, who can rile each other up the most, and who can hide it the best. Their performance numbers sky rocket. Mutters of _‘just get a room for fuck’s sake’_ are a constant chorus from their coworkers. Just. So many boners and awkward bathroom breaks. Shiro’s therapist is endlessly amused, but also very proud of his progress. There are days now where he hardly even thinks about his scars or missing arm. Knowing that his customers find him arousing is nice, but every long, appreciative look from Keith is another brick in Shiro’s slowly building self-esteem. Keith sees his every flaw and likes him _more_ for them. 

The day Shiro quietly admits his insecurities over their shared lunch of grilled chicken and cous-cous is a revelation for Keith. Keith has to duck his head and pound his chest as he chokes on his giant bite of food. At least his coughing fit gives him an excuse for the wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes as Shiro pats his back just a little too hard. He stops hiding his appreciative looks after that day, not that he’d tried very hard to begin with. Harder to hide are the soft, gooey feelings that fill Keith’s stomach like caramel and send him into a constant sugar high.

For his part, Shiro finds himself falling for Keith a little more every day, but he can’t bring himself to care. It doesn’t feel like falling. It feels like flying.

***

Keith and Shiro’s dares are rapidly evolving, but Keith isn’t complaining. It feels like they are playing some sort of bizarre sex chicken at this point. Their little competition has turned into one long edging session where even jerking off in bed at night only serves to increase the tension.

Every day, they push and prod at that line, waiting to see who will cross it first. Keith proves his blowjob prowess by demonstrating on a frankly ridiculously big dildo. Shiro, in turn, wears lingerie picked by Keith to work (under his clothes, because Coran does have some limits.)

Keith drags Shiro into the bathroom under the pretense of proving that he's actually wearing the set Keith chose. Shiro performs a cheesy, but weirdly endearing strip tease until he's bare but for his lacy boyshorts and a cami that is more straps than cloth. Keith leans against the bathroom door, heart knocking in his chest as he watches with hooded eyes. He beckons Shiro closer. Biting his lip, Shiro steps up close. Keith says nothing, relishing the way Shiro’s muscles tense in anticipation. He runs a finger gently along one strap before untwisting it. He snaps it lightly against Shiro's shoulder, then pats him on the chest before turning and slipping out the door.

Shiro knocks his fist against the bathroom wall with a groan, flustered and aching, hard as nails. He doesn't jerk off though, even though he desperately wants to. He has no doubt that's exactly what Keith is hoping for. He won't give in that easily. Shiro redresses slowly to give himself some time to cool down, then goes back to his desk. He keeps his head held high, trying to salvage as much dignity as possible. (Later, over expensive vodka and dollar store mixers, Pidge will not-so-kindly inform him that his and Keith’s dignity left to go fuck in a closet a long time ago, and that they need to follow the example. Matt will cackle and ask for details while helplessly rolling on the floor. Shiro will have no qualms about “accidentally” kicking him as he flees to his bedroom.) 

For now, he ignores the way Keith smirks and watches him just a little too intently. Shiro's phone calls are positively inspired that day. He wins their daily competition by a mile. 

"So, what's your reward?" Keith asks as he leans against Shiro's desk, long legs crossed and so, so tempting. 

Shiro spins in his chair so he can trap Keith between his knees. "I haven't decided yet," he says, tapping one finger against his lips. Keith follows the movement, eyes hazed and mouth lax. Shiro licks his lips innocently and delights in the way Keith’s eyes drop and catch on the motion. "I'm sure I'll have something for you tomorrow, though." 

Keith leans in close. "I look forward to it," he murmurs. He sets a foot against the chair between Shiro's thighs and pushes him away gently. 

"See you tomorrow," Shiro calls after him as he leaves. Keith throws a wave over one shoulder. Shiro cocks his head. Damn but the boy has a nice ass. An idea blooms as he watches it disappear. Anticipation wriggles through his veins.

This is going to be good.

***

When Keith arrives at work the next day, Shiro is already there. Keith eyes him warily. He looks just a little too innocent as he checks his company email before starting his calls for the day. Keith sees why soon enough. In the center of his desk is a little gift box, white with a black ribbon. Very innocuous. Very suspicious. Keith narrows his eyes at Shiro as he undoes the ribbon and pulls the top off. He stares blankly at what's nestled inside. "I was told it was the most popular model downstairs," Shiro says with a shit-eating grin.

Keith swallows hard, heart thundering in his throat. His face must do something weird, because Shiro’s smile falters and falls into uncertainty. "You, uh. You don't have to..." Shiro starts. He sounds nervous. 

"No," Keith says quickly, then clears his throat to get rid of his ‘ _I'm so horny right now’_ rasp. "No, it's fine. Good. Should I..." He gestures toward the bathroom vaguely. Shiro's eyes go dark; Keith's stomach swoops like a roller coaster. 

"Yes." 

Keith can't speak in his light-headed daze, so he just takes the box into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. Once he's safe inside, he opens the box and carefully pulls out the buttplug Shiro had given him. 

Objectively, it's very stylish: smooth, silver metal that shines his ruddy-faced reflection back at him. The flared bottom has a ruby-like jewel on it that looks like actual stone or glass rather than cheap plastic. It's cool to the touch, but warms under his fingers. It has a nice, weighty heft to it. Keith shivers at the thought of what it might feel like inside him. He can't help but notice that it looks very close in size to what Keith had seen glimpses of through Shiro's lingerie yesterday. Keith bites his lip and picks up the little bottle of lube Shiro so thoughtfully nestled in the box next to it. 

"I'm really doing this," he half-laughs, incredulous at his own daring. At Shiro's brazenness. Yeah, they work in the sex industry, but there's an unspoken _‘no sex stuff on the work floor’_ rule that they are very definitely breaking. Then again, they've been straddling that line for weeks now. Might as well cross over fully. 

He unbuttons his pants.

***

When Keith comes back from the restroom, there's a certain stiffness to his walk that Shiro recognizes well. He can't hide the small, pleased grin on his face. Keith raises an eyebrow at him as he gingerly sits at his desk and prepares for work. Shiro adjusts himself discreetly.

Throughout the evening, Keith keeps frustratingly cool and collected. Aside from the way he shifts a little more often in his seat, no one would ever know what he had inside him. That just won't do. Shiro reaches into his pocket and carefully palms his ace in the hole, waiting for the exact right time to play it. 

He gets his chance a few minutes later when Keith finishes up his current call and clicks over to the next. Keith starts their standard greeting, chin in hand and looking almost bored. "Hey sweetheart, I'm—" Shiro grins and hits the button on the remote. 

"Jesus FUCK!" Keith yelps. He nearly jumps out of his seat as vibrations rocket through his body. They disappear just as suddenly as they'd started, leaving Keith shell-shocked and slack-jawed, wondering what the hell had just happened. 

He gets his answer in Shiro's smug grin. Through his headphones, Keith can distantly hear his customer's confused, miffed voice. "S...sorry, sugar," he says breathlessly. "I thought I saw a—" More vibrations, faster and right up against his prostate. He squeaks. "—a rat," he finishes, glaring at Shiro. Shiro smiles innocently back before clicking onto his own call, voice indolent and honey sweet. Keith's caller sounds confused, but Keith manages to save the call, spinning it into a _‘save me, take care of me, you big manly man’_ fantasy that has his customer coming almost pathetically quickly.

As soon as Keith hangs up, he hits the hold button and leans forward across the desk, ignoring the way it pushes the plug into an even better angle. "What the _fuck,_ Shiro?" he hisses. Shiro keeps talking to his caller like he hadn't even heard Keith, but the sudden shock of vibrations inside him is all the reply Keith needs. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands, digging his nails in to stop the moan trying to crawl its way up his throat. "Dirty trick," he manages to get out. The vibrations kick up another notch. Keith holds onto his composure by the skin of his teeth. He breathes out a sigh of relief when it finally tapers off. Another minute more and he'd have been in the bathroom, cleaning up a mess. 

"Are you okay, Keith?" Shiro asks him, the very picture of friendly concern. "You're looking a little flushed."

"Just fine, sugar tits," Keith grits out. 

"Well, if you need someone to cover you so you can take a break, let me know." 

Keith narrows his eyes at him. Challenge accepted. Keith pointedly turns back to his computer and takes his line off hold. He ignores Shiro's muffled laugh, just like he ignores Pidge's suspicious staring and the way Hunk has his head in his hands even as he talks someone through their daddy kink.

Keith's professionalism has never been so sorely tested over the next few hours. He's tense and on edge, waiting for the next flare of vibrations. Somehow, he's still shocked every time it does, coming randomly at varying lengths, intensity, and patterns. There are a few close calls with his customers but he soldiers through, getting them off even as he wavers between desperately wishing to do the same and being terrified that he actually will. It's nearly dinner time when Shiro turns the vibrator on and keeps it on the highest setting for a minute _straight._ Keith has to bend over and put his head on his desk, biting his lip against a whimper and failing anyway as he spirals closer and closer to orgasm.

He's nearly there, panting and completely given up fighting, when the vibrations suddenly, tragically, infuriatingly stop. Keith wants to scream, but he can't because that would be admitting defeat. Plus, it would be beyond obvious what was happening. Not that it isn't already, judging by his coworkers' faces, ranging the gamut from disgusted, to exasperated, to amused, to turned on. 

Keith could have lived his whole life not knowing what Lance looked like while horny.

Keith takes several deep breaths, composing himself. He needs to turn the tables, get the upper hand somehow even though right now it seems like Shiro has all the power. Literally. He gets his chance a few minutes later when one of his regulars comes on the line. 

Shiro knows he's in trouble when Keith lounges back in his seat with a smug tilt to his chin. "Hey baby, how are you?" he asks in that sweet drawl of his, playing up the southern accent that only comes out to play when he's tired, triumphant or, apparently, aroused. Keith hums, eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah, I missed you too. Been thinking about you all day." He looks right at Shiro as he says, "Uh huh, I even got myself a little something special to remind me of you. I'm wearing it right now, in fact." 

Shiro's brain stalls out as he realizes Keith's new tactic. He frantically attempts to parry by turning the vibrator back on, but Keith has found his equilibrium. He moans provocatively, eyes fluttering shut and biting his lower lip. "Wanna know what it is?" His voice lowers to lewd rumble. Shiro finds himself leaning forward to hear. "It's a plug, prettiest one I've ever seen. Silver, red jewel on the bottom. And huge, just like you." Keith's eyes flick down to Shiro's lap, even though he can't actually see it because of the desk. "It feels so good, splitting me open." 

One of Keith's hands is on his thigh, rubbing back and forth absently as he talks. "It has a remote vibrator, you know. Just imagine the things you could do, if you had it right now. Bet you'd tease me for hours, edge me over and over, and there's nothing I could do about it because I'm at work, and what would my co-workers think if they knew?" 

"Your co-workers already know and they are done with this shit," Pidge snaps, throwing down her headset. "I'm going to dinner before Keith's O-face scars me for life." 

"I'll join you." Hunk scrambles up from his desk, then hauls Lance up by the back of his shirt. "You too, Lance." 

"What? Why? I wanna—" 

"Nope." 

"Aw, c’mon! Allura’s staying" Lance whines. 

"Allura's still on a call," Shiro says, failing to hold back a possessive growl. "She'll join you as soon as she's done." Allura shrugs with an amused little eyebrow quirk, but politely turns her chair away as she continues to talk to her customer. Shiro snaps his gaze back to Keith just as he lets out another moan. It's not one of his fake ones, the ones Shiro knows well because he hears them day in and day out while Keith makes faces or holds up Post-its notes of dirty stick figures just to make Shiro snort. 

This is the real thing. It turns up at the end, becomes something closer to a whimper. Keith’s head rolls back against his chair. His hands clench and his thighs tense. Panting breaths turn into little mewls.

Jealousy blazes through Shiro. Those sounds are not meant for pervy old men, neglected housewives, or giggling co-eds. Those are _his_ sounds, his to hoard and hold close to his heart because _he’s_ the one who makes Keith fall apart. 

He turns the vibrator up, hard, fast pulses. Keith's breath hitches. His eyes fly open wide, staring at Shiro with that overwhelmed, loose mouthed look. His face crumples in pleasure as his back bows. His hips rock helplessly, thrusting up, then grinding back into his chair over and over. The sound that comes out of his mouth is pure filth. "Fuck, more, please, give me more, I need—" Keith's begging cuts off with a tortured whine as Shiro turns it up to the final level. _"Fuck,_ Shi—" 

Shiro lunges forward, knocking stuff off their desks as he hurries to shut Keith up. With his lips. Keith wraps a hand around the back of Shiro's neck and reels him desperately. Shiro goes willingly, clambering over their combined desk and down onto the floor between Keith's feet. Keith guides in with a hand in his hair. Shiro’s hands tremble as he undoes the button of Keith's pants and yanks down the zipper. Keith is still talking to his client, which just makes Shiro burn hotter when Keith casually bats Shiro’s hand away to pull himself from his underwear and feed his cock into Shiro's waiting mouth. 

Determined to steal away all of Keith’s attention, Shiro slides his mouth all the way down until his lips brush the base of Keith's cock. His throat massages it when he swallows convulsively. 

"Jesus," Keith says in a harsh, stunned whisper, "You really just..." Shiro moans quietly in agreement. Keith lets out a sharp breath as the vibrations in Shiro’s throat join the ones from the vibrator. His hand clenches in Shiro's bangs thoughtlessly, then with more purpose as he tentatively pulls Shiro part-way off his cock. Shiro looks up through his lashes and nods as much as he's able. Keith takes the permission and runs with it. He guides Shiro back down gently, then a little harder he realizes that Shiro can take it. Wants to take it. "God, baby, you feel so good, taking me so good." 

He moans again, letting Shiro take control again so he can bob up and down, stopping to pay special attention to the head every few strokes. "That's it, just like that, just like—" The words melt into breathy hitching little gasps, little ‘ _ah ah ah’_ s that makes Shiro's own cock throb in his pants. He pins Keith's hips down and speeds up. "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna..." Keith tries to pull Shiro off, but Shiro is having none of it. A moment later, Keith's breath stops entirely for one, two, three heartbeats, then picks up in a cry so loud that Shiro would feel bad for Keith's customer if he gave one single shit about the man. As it is, he relishes the way Keith comes undone under him. He barely registers the click of the phone before Keith is yanking him into a fierce kiss. Shiro returns it enthusiastically. 

"You're such a bastard," Keith hisses against Shiro's mouth, even as he snatches the remote forgotten in Shiro's hand and clicks it off with a wince. 

"So did I win?" Shiro asks, pulling back to nip at Keith's throat.

"Guess so. This time," Keith grumbles. He pulls away, but only to help Shiro stand. "Now come on," he says, tugging Shiro by the hand towards the bathroom. "Come get your reward."

***

No one is surprised when laminated signs proclaiming, _‘No Sex On The Work Floor Go To The Supply Closet Like Normal People You Heathens’_ show up everywhere in the building. Shiro pretends he doesn’t recognize Pidge’s handwriting, nor Matt’s little cartoon figures depicting various forbidden sex acts. Keith just smirks and struts smugly towards said supply closet, pausing only to throw a raised eyebrow over his shoulder as if to say _‘You coming or what?’_

Shiro always comes.

  
  


The End

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: [kenda1l1](https://twitter.com/kenda1l1)  
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments (sometimes it just takes me a while to get over my glee and figure out how to reply.)
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with "whisper" and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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